Let Me Save You
by emmareden
Summary: Set season 7. Spencer knows the walls are closing in. She finally comes face to face with her birth mother, Mary Drake for the first time since 7x10.


**_Chapter 1/1_**

 _You brought the cops._

 _I understand._

 _Goodbye._

Mary's hand shook slightly as she penned the last letter. She stared at it for a full minute before she curled it up.

* * *

Spencer wiped away the single tear she had let escape her right eye. She wondered if that was it. She'd never see her birth mother again. She'd disappeared once. Mary definitely knew how to hide and how to stay gone. If she didn't want to be found…

Spencer let herself fall onto the couch unceremoniously. She lay down on her back and covered her eyes with a single hand.

It wasn't fair. That was an understatement. She still had so much to ask. So much to say. So much to know.

And now all she'd ever have was an old letter and a few messages from a bottle.

* * *

Searching was fruitless.

Mary was like a ghost. One second she was holding her bleeding daughter in her arms, the next it was like she'd never existed. She'd been practicing being invisible her whole life; it was as easy as breathing for the older woman. Maybe even easier.

Still, Spencer tore apart the Lost Woods, searching for something. Anything. She was there every second that she wasn't with the girls, trying to figure out the latest clue or gimmick that damn board game had come up with.

She hadn't told them about Mary's notes. They didn't seem to want to talk about Mary since the whole 'I am your mother' revelation. Unless it was trying to figure out something new to blame her for. And for all Spencer knew, maybe her birth mother was to blame.

She didn't know.

That was what really killed her. She just didn't know… anything.

Except that any day Marco… Detective Furey would be getting that receipt. With her signature on it. She couldn't believe that she, forever the 'smart one', had made such a stupid mistake.

* * *

Spencer had panicked. She didn't want to go to jail. If she walked through those doors, she wasn't sure she'd ever get out. If this A.D wanted her trapped, they didn't have to put her in jail. Her head was enough to do that all on its' own.

She knew the way police theory worked. If you run, you're guilty. She could confess. Send a note. Take the heat off the girls. Then she could figure out how the hell to clear her name so she could come back… Then again, why would she ever want to return to Rosewood?

Now, she was walking through the bushes on the edge of town. Frustrated with herself for not having a real plan. She knew it was weak but she had… panicked. Panic never reaps good plans.

She wished more than ever that she'd at least had that conversation – how to become invisible.

That's when she heard the sirens.

Torch lights flashed through the bushes. Furey wasn't alone this time. There had to be at least half a dozen cops trawling through the undergrowth. _After all, they were chasing a murderer_ , Spencer thought miserably.

She stopped moving. She could hear the whispers, the twigs cracking underfoot, feel the torches burning her eyes. Then she heard a movement a lot closer. Before she could turn around, she felt a hand cover her mouth.

"It's okay. Stay still. Stay quiet. I just need a minute."

Spencer managed to rip the hand from her mouth and turn around to face her birth mother.

"What are you doing here?" she whispered.

Mary looked around anxiously, "I never went far, Spencer."

"I didn't bring the cops," Spencer said, "That detective followed me, I didn't know."

"He's been watching you," Mary whispered.

"How do you – "

"Because _I've_ been watching you."

There was a shout.

"Over here!" then Detective Furey appeared, not looking surprised to see the two women together, shielding their eyes from the light. He lowered it slightly, "Spencer Hastings, you're - "

"It wasn't her," Mary stood in front of her daughter protectively, "It was me."

Detective Furey squinted at her suspiciously, "What was?"

"I killed Archer Dunhill," Mary said steadily, "Alone."

* * *

Spencer waited in the cool, empty room. Empty almost seemed a generous word. It was barren, Spencer rethought, a complete nothingness. Then a door on the other side of the room clicked open. Mary was bought in and sat down opposite her daughter. Handcuffs left on her small wrists.

"Half an hour," the guard said and shuffled out of the room.

The door closed, the sound echoing around the room.

"I don't even know what to say," Spencer said, "You shouldn't be in here, I – "

"Spencer, don't," Mary looked around, "Just don't. It's okay."

Spencer noted the other woman's anxiety, "You know they can't record these conversations, right? They – "

"After everything you've been through, do you really trust the cops to do the right thing?" Mary asked quietly.

"Well, no," Spencer admitted, "But… I can't let you stay in here."

Mary sighed, "Of course you can and you will," she said firmly, her eyes flicking down to her daughters' hands in her lap. Her own hands fell and tentatively, she stretched her fingers towards her daughters.

Spencer looked down as she felt the brush of her mothers' fingers against her own. She looked back up at her mothers' face. Silent but somehow pleading. She wrapped her fingers around her mom's hand and felt a tight squeeze in response.

"Promise me you won't put yourself in harms' way to get me out of here," Mary whispered, leaning forward.

Spencer hesitated before nodding, "Fine. I promise. But I will figure something out."

Mary offered the smallest of smiles, "It's okay if you don't. Just promise me one more thing?"

Spencer nodded, "What is it?"

"Please, visit me," Mary's voice cracked, her eyes wide.

Spencer squeezed on her mom's fingers, still between her own and nodded, "I promise, mom."


End file.
